[Magpie]
Writ in a tiny [bad word]  your corner grave mountain us
Surrounded, by many temples and many fountains
Exotic birds, shift the melodies of the killa
They can pray for concentration, I get iller
Wit the sword, every day I practice
Swift advances, shift the necks, I'm gettin' buffed at a tour bus
So bluff, I can't wield the sword, still gonna swing
I'm meant to the Ch'ing Dynasty, as a king
Heads are by the hill, it's over, flex and blind your eyes
Deep rise and realize how I civilize
I went to pain, to slang my blood brothers, take all the witches, and took cover
Them crook [bad word]  took my mother, and passed the hat
Tell ya God [bad word] [bad word] and slap that
I train fifty days, and would do fifty [bad word] after, it takes to fight and bring this harm

*beat switches*

"Now you killed them, it's the best!"

[Cilvaringz]
My style swingin' to your axis, slice through actors and gimmicks
Now I'm practicin' to play fifty days, sixty minutes
Off of twenty four lockout, I throw the blade at whoever bring the glock out
I'm gettin' bugged out, but I'm determined and I'm pretty certain
of victory, while I'm attackin', those forgettin' me
Started a bond and people like the World Trade bum bombers
Rockin' the armor, be a Joan of Arc, send you to God Allah
We settle it for nothin' less
The slum infest and paid off incarcerated swordsman
Yo I'm exhausted from the fifty days of practicin'
In these days you have to fight against these [bad word]  forces, I'm gettin' nauseous
I'm too excited ... gotta throw up ... ah [bad word]  nah let me stop
And take a rest underneath a mountain
Relax first, and then I meditate by the fountains

*beat switches back to first beat*

[Fraze]
I'm the study of physical matter, we're keepin' it to gather
Some blunt habits retainin' sharp manner
And so much for hidden dagger, you can't see, but you will remember
The smell of fear that strikes the agenda
Mantis mental, guide this temple
Fifty days of buildin' concentration to another level
Boxin' candles, settlers blind folded
Walkin' wooden poles, a [bad word] state like the black hole
I'm restless, lickin' 25 [bad word]  twice a day for sword practice
Get out the brass tax, find your own chants, movin' on a glance
Raisin' the stakes at the last dance
Your action is brass power of reaction
It's the fast momentum, protectin' form of the tension
So return like the resurrection, bracin' for sword practicin'
Adjust it to what I'm hearin', feelin', gettin' more in returnin'
Fall back to the back of water, when the skies are burnin', skies are burnin'

*beat switches to second beat*

"Now you killed them, it's the best!"

[Baracuda]
Witness a whirlwind of words shock shells
Above clams, on a quest for pearls, witness a herd of the unheard
Confident, break the bond, witness a flock of fragile birds
Trace the fisherman back to the core of the Earth
Origin, hand hit the table of wise man, serve fifty days in confinement
Darts twistin', palms strikes in the tight vein
The phoenix tail feathers stars in alignment
Harvest in a flower, council defyin'
The igneous is bliss, got's the violent giant
Blessed wit the dyin' witty dialog cryin' [bad word] analog
Tears of joy [bad word]  face a legion of limb
Men from the monastery, teachin' a Ch'ing
The delicate crip on the butterfly wings, the killa sings
soul may, I pay wit the pallet of Mo Nay

[Outro: Cilvaringz]
Paralyzin' people like it's Bombay, fifty days of Sword Practice